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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501130">At Least Out Loud (I Won't Say I'm in Love)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleniumfalcon/pseuds/elleniumfalcon'>elleniumfalcon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Brief thoughts of violence, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, First Kiss, Fix-It, Love Confessions, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Vomiting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:29:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,483</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleniumfalcon/pseuds/elleniumfalcon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie knows that, to Eddie, love is a four-letter word, one that's only been used against him. Because of this, Eddie hates the way it sounds and if he never hears it again, it'd be too soon. And Richie totally respects that. But that doesn't mean Richie can't feel it, right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>At Least Out Loud (I Won't Say I'm in Love)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based off of a twitter thread with the lovely @got_kozier. Thanks for having a sad that needed fixing, I guess. </p><p>If you too like to spew clown town madness, come find me on twitter: @elleniumfalcon</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie snored. He would deny it with his dying breath, but he absolutely snored. It wasn’t very loud and if Richie wasn’t paying attention, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it. But Richie was paying attention. It was difficult not to with Eddie pressed against his side, his head tucked against his shoulder. He could feel the soft buzz more than hear it, the bee starting in Eddie’s chest and bursting out through his nose with each exhale. Eddie snored and Richie loved him for it.</p><p> </p><p>There were a lot of things Richie loved about Eddie. The rubber gloves he wore when he did the dishes, that went past his elbow, because if he touched water-logged food, he would gag. The way he scrunched his face up after swallowing his medication, the quick little shake of his head to help guide his pills down his throat. The way he would turn to walk backwards on their evening strolls to look at Richie who had inevitably lagged behind, distracted by a plant or bird. The way he used <em> fuck </em> as a noun, verb, and adjective in one sentence, an expletive and an affectionate all at once. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, that certainly illustrates the diversity of the word,” Richie had said to him in a decent Irish accent the first time Eddie had gone on a “fuck-tangent”.</p><p> </p><p>“I will forever regret watching Boondock Saints with you,” Eddie had rolled his eyes and didn’t try to hide the smile on his face.</p><p> </p><p>And, now, added to the list, the way he snored. </p><p> </p><p>Wednesdays were for physical therapy and even though each week was getting easier, Eddie never wanted to do much afterward. They left him tired and sore and a little crabby and all he wanted to do was order take-out and watch a shitty movie on the couch. Which just so happened to be two of Richie’s favorite things. So, every Wednesday, Eddie got to pick dinner and a movie and got first dibs on blankets. </p><p> </p><p>Tonight was Mexican and Mothman Prophecies, which Richie had immediately and loudly protested being considered shitty, but had put on anyway. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re fucking lucky I love you and you’re lucky that it’s Eds-day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t say that,” Eddie had pulled the blanket closer, burying his nose in the soft fleece for a moment, covering his terse lips. Richie didn’t have to guess which part he meant. </p><p> </p><p>They had first had the conversation on an Eds-day weeks before, one where Eddie had not only the joy of physical therapy, but the privilege of mediation afterward. Richie assumed it hadn’t gone well, as all Eddie wanted<em> that </em>night was wine and House Hunters International. </p><p> </p><p>“Y’know she interrupted my lawyer like five times?” Eddie poured himself another generous glass, having to concentrate a little too hard on making sure he didn’t spill. “Like, she couldn’t just fucking listen, she had to just be fucking heard. An’ half the time, it was shit that Kay literally was about to fucking address. She almost kicked Myra out!”</p><p> </p><p>“She fucking should have,” Richie reached out to steady Eddie’s glass, shaking his head. Kay McCall was one of Beverly’s closest friends and was serving as both of their attorneys during their respective divorces. And she scared Richie half to death. </p><p> </p><p>“And then,” Eddie swallowed down a hiccup and raked his fingers through his hair. “And then she had the fucking nerve to wait for me in the hallway, hop into my elevator. And she jus’...” He scrunched his face up, rolling his eyes at the ceiling as a shrill voice crept out of him. “<em> Eddie, let’s talk. Eddie, you can’t really mean this. Eddie, I love you </em>.” His whole body shuddered, rose sloshing onto his lap. “Fuck! If… If I never heard those three words again, it’ll be too soon.” </p><p> </p><p>“What, I love you?” Richie asked, tucking one long leg to his chest. The other foot began to tap nervously against the floor. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes!” He looked at Richie as if it should have been obvious. “It just… It’s so fucking <em> loaded </em>, man! Like, people say it and I don’t really think they mean it, y’know? Cause like, y’always hear in movies about how love doesn’t have strings or anything, I mean the fuckin’ Bible even says that, but it makes me feel like a fucking puppet! Like, oh you love me so now I fucking owe you or some shit! Gotta do my little dance t’keep you happy. And, I mean, I know J.Lo always said that love don’t cost a thing, but Ma and Myra…it wasn’t ever free, y’know?” </p><p> </p><p>Richie’s heart had fallen into his stomach with a speed that left him nauseous. He set his own glass of wine down on the table, decidedly done for the evening. Every day, Eddie revealed just a little more of his life In Between and every day, Richie wanted to do absolutely horrible things to Sonia and Myra Kaspbrak. While he would never advocate for violence against women, he couldn’t help but daydream about resurrecting Eddie’s mother only to strangle her with his bare hands, about walking to the condo on Staten Island and introducing his soon-to-be-ex-wife to the axe he’d buried in Bowers’ skull. It unnerved Richie, even frightened him, how angry they made him. But he knew it was either get angry or break down in tears. And Eddie didn’t need that from him. He needed Richie to be a little bit stronger for him, while he worked on being strong himself. </p><p> </p><p>“What about us?” He asked quietly, resting his chin on his knee. “What about the Losers?”</p><p> </p><p>“S’different,” Eddie shrugged, looking down into his glass. “You guys are just… You.” </p><p> </p><p>“Eddie, I think the ladies Kaspbrak are more of an exception than the rule itself,” Richie reached out and gently took the glass from Eddie’s hands, setting it on the coffee table. “Love isn’t… Look, I’m not exactly an expert on the subject, but I know it isn’t like that. It’s not a fucking chain letter, it isn’t supposed to have attachments or anything. It’s just supposed to <em> be </em>, y’know?” </p><p> </p><p>Eddie gave Richie an incredulous look before letting out a low burp. “You would say that. You’re a fuckin’ Pisces.” </p><p> </p><p>The conversation had veered off from there, only because Eddie’s stomach decided to violently protest a bottle of rose without any dinner. They’d spent the rest of the evening in the guest bathroom, Richie sprawled out in the bathtub with a blanket and pillow, explaining World of Warcraft lore to Eddie in between him heaving into the toilet. Once he was sure there wasn’t any risk of Eddie pulling a Jimi Hendrix overnight, Richie had carried the other to bed and tucked in beside him, hoping that somewhere in his sloshed brain, Eddie could register an act of love with no strings attached. </p><p> </p><p>Back to Mexican and Mothman. Eddie had absolutely demolished his enchiladas and had promptly passed out on Richie within the first half hour of the movie, snoring softly against his shoulder. Richie had somehow managed to both hold Eddie close and eat a pounder burrito with one hand, all without making a mess, which was a definite win in his book. Tossing the last napkin into the take-out bag, he wrapped his other arm around Eddie, smiling when he curled closer into him. </p><p> </p><p>He loved Eddie. As much as he didn’t want to, as much as it scared him to do so, Richie just fucking loved Eddie. He had first felt it when their eyes met at the Jade, that little flutter in his chest. The little voice in his head that whispered ‘<em> Oh, it’s you </em>’. He had remembered his childhood crush almost instantly, the longing he’d felt throughout middle school and high school. He remembered the ache that had been left when Eddie had moved away, the emptiness suddenly beginning to fill back up again. </p><p> </p><p>Then Richie had suddenly been too busy keeping his ass alive to do much about it. And after that, Eddie was recovering, divorcing (still working on that one), healing both heart and mind slowly. They were sharing an AirBnb with Ben and Bev for a little while, then an apartment with Bev, and now just an apartment together. And while Eddie continued to grow and flourish, so did the space Eddie occupied in Richie’s heart. Somewhere between Bev moving out and that disastrous wine night, Richie had realized that his crush had blossomed to full-on, balls to the walls, stupidly in love. </p><p> </p><p>Which would have been great, if it weren’t for Eddie’s little hang-up. </p><p> </p><p>Richie sighed heavily and looked down at Eddie’s sleeping form, marveling at the way his crow’s feet smoothed in slumber. How his hair fanned just perfectly so across his forehead, how his lips parted ever so slightly. Eddie always looked so peaceful when he slept, the weight of the world seeming to slide off his shoulders. Richie so desperately wished he could keep Eddie this way, free from his worries, safe and comfortable, as he was while he slept. He was certainly willing to try, if Eddie would let him. But, at the end of the day, Richie loved Eddie far too much to push it. </p><p> </p><p>He was pretty sure that keeping quiet could possibly kill him, though. Richie was blessed with many talents, but not speaking his heart wasn’t one of them. His thoughts were loud and intrusive, his emotions doubly so, and if he didn’t express them when they popped into his head, it became all he could concentrate on. And being in love with Eddie was no exception. The fact that Richie had gone this long without saying anything to him was, frankly, miraculous. </p><p>Richie would never pretend to understand what Eddie had gone through, why he felt how he did about love. But he could try. Try to see it from Eddie’s perspective and, maybe, even try to change it. </p><p> </p><p>Reaching for the blanket pooled in Eddie’s lap, Richie tugged it up higher, caccooning the two of them. One hand rubbed soothing circles against Eddie’s side, the other coming up to run his fingers through soft, near-black hair. A soft, pleased hum was Richie’s reward, a body pressing ever-so-closer to his. He smiled, soft, with just a hint of sadness before leaning down and nuzzling his nose to the top of Eddie’s head. He stayed there for many moments, letting himself get wrapped up in the scent of tea tree and lavender, the way the strands tickled his nose, and the way Eddie’s heart beat against his side. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you, Eddie,” Richie finally whispered. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to Eddie’s head, letting the relief of having said it wash over him.</p><p> </p><p>“You do?” </p><p> </p><p>Well, fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Richie froze, his hand hovering over Eddie’s hip, his stopping their ministrations in his hair. He swallowed hard, feeling his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.  Eddie shifted to his other hip, pulling his head from Richie’s shoulder to look up at him. His brown eyes were wide and sleepy all at once, his dark brows knit together. His lips were pressed into that tight line that drove Richie wild, so sure that if they were any tighter, Eddie would be eating his own lip. Eddie had looked at him like this once before, at the mouth of It’s lair - uncertain and frightened. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re braver than you think </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And Richie decided that, yes, he was. He swallowed hard again, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip before he spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Richie gave a firm nod, looking down at his lap. “Yeah, Eddie, I do.” </p><p> </p><p>“Rich…”</p><p> </p><p>“And um… I-It’s okay if you don’t feel it, too. Seriously, I’ll be alright. It’s um, it’s totally going to suck for a little bit, but I’ll be fine,” Richie gave a small half-smile, tucking his shoulders up to his ears. “And, y’know, if you <em> do </em> feel… it. I… I don’t ever expect you to say it back. It’s okay if you can’t. But I do. And I don’t really wanna keep it in anymore.” </p><p> </p><p>Beside him, Eddie swallowed hard, sitting up straighter, the blanket falling back to his lap. His hands wrung at the fleece, worrying it between trembling fingers. He simply stared at Richie, his eyes darting across his form, trying to read him, to find any part of him that betrayed his words. Because there was simply no way Richie could possibly mean it. </p><p> </p><p>But Eddie knew better, knew how Richie’s body often betrayed his words. He knew Richie meant it. </p><p> </p><p>“Rich, I…” Eddie cleared his throat and shook his head. “I’m not… I’m not ready to say it. And I… I don’t know if I wanna hear it for a bit. But um… Me too, Rich.” </p><p> </p><p>Richie sat up straight once more, his head slowly turning to meet Eddie’s eyes. He gave a small, surprised smile. “Really?” he whispered, his voice shaking just faint that it’d be missed if someone wasn’t paying attention. </p><p> </p><p>But Eddie was paying attention. He smiled back at Richie, just as small, a little bit scared. His hand slowly found its way to Richie’s face, gently hooking itself beneath his chin. Eddie’s thumb briefly traced the underside of his lower lip before he pulled Richie’s face closer. Their lips ghosted together at first, the faintest of touches. And then, Eddie smiled again, pressing a firmer, truer kiss to Richie’s mouth. His heart fluttered at the soft sigh that pushed out of Richie, the way their lips slotted together as if designed to do just so. His fingers tangled themselves in the wavy mop of Richie’s hair as their lips parted, pressing their foreheads together, their noses nuzzling against each other. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Richie,” he finally whispered. “Me, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“I meant it, y’know?” Richie kissed him quickly again, letting his hand rest on Eddie’s lower back. “We don’t have to say it. Not until you’re ready. But um… I’d really like to <em> show </em> you, if you’ll let me.”</p><p> </p><p>Eddie laughed lightly against Richie’s mouth, pulling back enough to really look at his friend. His boyfriend? Partner? They could probably worry about semantics later. His Richie, he settled on for now. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” he nodded. “I think we can make that work.”</p><p> </p><p>They kissed once more, quick and smiley. When they pulled apart, Eddie tucked himself back against Richie’s side, turning back to the movie. His arms snaked their way around Richie’s soft middle, holding the other as close as he possibly could. Richie’s arms draped around Eddie’s shoulders, his chin resting on the top of his head. He swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. On the TV, Richard Gere’s face began to blur and Richie quickly buried his face in Eddie’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Sap,” Eddie snorted, pressing a kiss to Richie’s shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Show and tell, baby,” Richie sniffled and squeezed him closer. “Show and tell."</p>
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